


Hovers, Chocobos, and Love Confessions - Oh My!

by LindorKisses



Series: Gippalaipalooza [2]
Category: Final Fantasy X-2
Genre: Best Friends, Boys In Love, Calm Lands, Chocobos, Discovering One's Feelings, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gippal is an adorable dork, Holding Hands, Hovers, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, Macalania Woods, Male Slash, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Suggestive Themes, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, bevelle, but also very oblivious, gippalai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:30:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25050142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LindorKisses/pseuds/LindorKisses
Summary: A deal was a deal, but Gippal is beginning to regret their bargain as he gazes into wide black eyes that seem to maliciously glitter with amusement.“Gippal,” One blue eye moves towards the figure elegantly perched on top of the hellish creature, “it’s just a Chocobo.”“That is not just a Chocobo,” Gippal vehemently protests. “That thing is a death trap! A big, yellow, feathery deathtrap!”And not for the first time today – and most certainly not for the last time – Baralai sighs.Or, in which Gippal decides to rekindle his and Baralai’s friendship by striking a bargain: Baralai faces his fears of hovers, and Gippal faces his fears of Chocobos. Of course, Gippal didn’t expect to be forced to ride one of those blasted creatures, and he certainly didn’t expect to discover the hidden feelings he harbors for his former team member.
Relationships: Baralai/Gippal
Series: Gippalaipalooza [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1811827
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Hovers

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, nor do I claim any ownership of the videogame Final Fantasy X-2. All rights belong to the producers and composers of the game, such as Square Enix and Noriko Matsueda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, nor do I claim any ownership of the videogame Final Fantasy X-2. All rights belong to the producers and composers of the game, such as Square Enix and Noriko Matsueda.

“Relax, ‘Lai,” Gippal soothes his stiff friend. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Why is it every time you say those exact words I somehow end up in the exact _opposite_ situation?” Baralai pins him with a stern brown glare, and Gippal holds his hands up in a symbol of surrender.

“Well, this time, I mean it,” Gippal swears with a disarming smile that has, of course, no effect on his frowning Baralai. “I pinky promise you and the whole shebang.”

“And you wonder why I have doubts,” Baralai grumbles, but he allows Gippal to push him towards the gigantic metal machina waiting for them in a grassy space located off the Mi’ihen Highroad.

“It’ll be fun,” Gippal assures the young Praetor as he continues pushing Baralai towards the hover.

“Ride a hover, they said,” Baralai growls, his body stiffening even more as he moves closer to his demise. “It’ll be fun, they said. And guess what happens? _I die_!”

“You’re not going to die,” Gippal tries – he really does – to repress the smile curling along his mouth, but he fails and he knows it.

Baralai knows it, too, if the punch he gives Gippal’s poor arm is any indication.

“Gippal, so help me Yevon, if you do anything, I will firaga you to death,” Baralai seethes as he grips Gippal’s garments, his feet rooting him inches from the hover.

“You know, ‘Lai, if you really don’t want to do this, we don’t have to,” Gippal murmurs placatingly as he stops and turns to the smaller male. “I’m not going to force you.”

Relief instantly fills Baralai’s eyes as his grip on Gippal’s clothes loosens, “Really?”

Gippal steps closer and wraps his arms around Baralai’s lithe waist, his focus momentarily caught by the blush spreading across the other male’s umber cheeks like the breath of an Adamantine.

 _‘Something to tease him about later,’_ Gippal silently promises before returning to his mission, completely oblivious to the way his heart thundered as held his former team member.

Bringing his lips to the shell of Baralai’s ear, Gippal whispers with honey dripping from every word, “Of course not.”

Before Baralai can register his words, Gippal hoists the male off his feet and throws him onto the seats of the hover. He quickly clambers into the driver seat and dodges the firaga spell aimed at his head.

“I hate you so much, Gippal,” Baralai snarls as he rights himself, his jaw clenched and his hands balled into tight fists.

“Love you too, dear,” Gippal chortles as he dodges another firaga spell before starting the hover and moving it onto the Mi’ihen Highroad.

While the pair glides down the dusty road, a cool breeze caresses their faces and soothes the warmth the sun is producing as it shines down on the land in a cloudless sky. It is the ideal weather for a perfect day, or, at least, it would be a perfect day if there isn’t a thick silence lingering in the air between the two men.

A sigh escapes Gippal’s lips as Baralai remains – to be fair, justly – furious with the Al Behd, but he first focuses on entering the second section of the Mi’ihen Highroad before returning his attention to Baralai, intent on resolving the matter before his blue eye notices the perspiration pooling above the Praetor’s upper lip and the umber hands clenching his garments until his knuckles are white.

 _“Well, at least he’s more terrified than angry,”_ Gippal reasons as his body unconsciously relaxes with relief. _“A terrified Baralai is much preferable than an angry one.”_

Shuddering as his poor arms recalled the previous abuse they had suffered last time he made Baralai furious, Gippal quickly tries to right the situation.

“It’s going to be okay, ‘Lai,” The Al Behd reassures the Praetor as his eye returns to the road while he instinctively laces their hands. “Just enjoy yourself.”

When silence is the only response he receives, the blonde-haired male glances to his side and realizes the Praetor isn’t ignoring him but rather is gazing at their hands with a frown burrowing between his eyebrows.

However, before Gippal can speak – perhaps he should apologize for his actions earlier, even if he did have good intentions – a sigh escapes Baralai’s lips before he shakes his head and murmurs, more to himself than to the Al Behd leaning closer to hear his words over the roaring wind, “Sometimes, Gippal, I wish you weren’t like this.”

“What? Don’t like holding hands, ‘Lai?” Although the teasing remark comes out amused, Gippal is startled when his chest contracts and begins spasming with agony, as if he had been shot (again).

 _“What the heck is this?”_ A mirroring frown graces Gippal’s face as he investigates the source of the sudden pain. _“I’ve never felt anything like this before.”_

Before Gippal can probe deeper, Baralai’s soft voice reaches his ear as the Praetor gives the Al Behd a tentative smile – which is tinted in sadness? The frown marring Gippal’s face grows even deeper at that observation – and answers his earlier question, “No. It’s fine.”

A blue eye scrutinizes the Praetor, who averts his face to gaze at the corn stock field lining the left side of the road, and looks for any sign of deceit; but, when the Al Behd finds none, he returns his attention to the road, though the frown still lingers.

 _“I think I screwed up,”_ The blunt realization immediately evokes guilt as Gippal grimaces, his hand tightening on the wheel in reflex to the tension swarming his body. _“This was supposed to be fun – well, as fun as is physically possible for Baralai given his odd fear of hovers – and, instead, I’ve pretty much bombed it. Fantastic.”_

Forcefully exhaling the tension from his body and hand, Gippal beats his fingers along the surface of the wheel as he considers the situation, _“What to do? What to do? How can I help Baralai with his fears? How can I make this fun for him?”_

The Al Behd surveys the road while he brainstorms solutions before his attention falls on the corn stock field, and a light bulb lights as he processes the plan.

“Hey, ‘Lai,” A blue eye meets brown eyes, which immediately narrow as they observe Gippal’s gleeful expression.

“No,” Baralai adamantly declares, unaware of the hover tilting towards the field. “No to whatever you’re thinking, Gippal. You had that same exact expression as when you came up with this dreadful bargain and when you threw me into this-this _contraption_.”

“But it’ll be fun, ‘Lai,” Gippal doesn’t let Baralai’s opposition stop him as he grips the steering wheel and presses his foot against the accelerator pedal. “Better buckle up.”

“Gippal, don’t you da-,” A shriek interrupts Baralai’s protest as Gippal drives the hover off the dirt road and straight into the field.

The umber hand the Al Behd is holding clenches around Gippal’s hand like a lifeline as the hover thumps against the bumps lining the soil, and the vice grip only loosens after Gippal has completed a circle and begins heading towards the main road.

“I…hope…you…suffer,” The Praetor’s face is flushed as he pants, his chest rising and falling erratically, before he shoots a heated brown glare in Gippal’s direction.

“What?” Gippal calls as a wicked grin curls along his lips. “You want to go again?”

Brown eyes widen into saucer plates as horror fills their depths.

“Yevon, n-” Before Baralai can finish his protest, another scream leaves his mouth when Gippal abruptly turns the hover to the left, the motion sending the Praetor straight into the Al Behd’s side.

Laughter bursts out of Gippal’s mouth as trembling umber hands grip his clothes – and when he overhears several colorful Al Behd curses from the terrified Praetor - yet even though he finds Baralai’s reaction amusing, warmth fills his chest as he wraps an arm around Baralai’s rigid form and brings the shorter male closer.

And, if Gippal’s heart pounds unusually hard, well, it’s nothing to worry about. They’re just really good friends having fun, after all.

After doing a few more circles, Gippal finally returns to the main road - much to the Praetor’s obvious relief - before glancing down at his side, and a grin colors his lips when he realizes Baralai is still glued to his side and is still clenching his clothes, “You planning on staying there forever, ‘Lai?”

Baralai quickly retracts his hands from Gippal’s body – an act that instantly summons disappointment only for it to transform into confusion. He didn’t actually want Baralai to stay there, did he? – before shuffling away and averting his face, though Gippal can still detect a light blush rising to his cheeks, “S-Sorry.”

A tan hand unconsciously reaches towards the red umber cheek before Gippal halts himself, a frown appearing as he yanks his hand back to the wheel, _“What the heck am I doing? Actually, the question really should be: what the heck was I **planning** to do? Was I really about to-to **touch** Baralai’s cheek? Why the heck was I about to touch him?”_

 _“His blush was pretty,”_ A blue eye nearly falls out of its socket as Gippal freezes at the sudden explanation, and his own cheeks warm in embarrassment. _“Where did **that** come from? I do **not** think Baralai’s blush is pretty. Sure, it does look nice when he blushes, but that’s only because he’s cute.”_

 _“Wait, what?”_ Confusion wraps around his ankles and drags him below its murky depths. _“Why did I think **that**? Baralai is **not** cute. He’s just fun to tease. That’s all.”_

Ignoring the dissatisfaction unfurling in his chest, Gippal shoots the Praetor – who was finally looking at him - a sunny smile, “It’s no problem, ‘Lai. Do whatever makes you comfortable. I’m good with anything, promise.”

The Al Behd’s mouth widens when a grateful smile graces Baralai’s lips before the Praetor represses it with a mock glare, “And what exactly were you trying to accomplish back there, Gippal? Were you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Aw, you know I’d never do that, ‘Lai,” Gippal hums as he returns his attention to the road. “I wanted to help you have fun, that’s all.”

“Only you could think that was fun, Gippal,” Exasperation coats the words as Baralai shakes his head before surveying their surroundings with a fond smile.

It’s those exasperated words and the sight of that smile that ignites another warmth in Gippal’s chest that tingles as it spreads throughout his body.

 _“What is this?”_ A frown carves its place between Gippal’s eyebrows as the Al Behd takes a hand off the steering wheel and rubs the warm area. _“Seriously, is something wrong with me? Am I getting sick?”_

Baralai’s concerned voice tugs the Al Behd out of his musings, “Are you okay, Gippal?”

“I’m fine,” Gippal dismisses the worry with a soothing grin. “I’m just having a lot of fun with you, ‘Lai.”

“Well, at least one of us is,” Relief gleams from brown eyes as Baralai leans back into the seat, some of the tension finally leaving his stiff shoulders.

“You don’t look like you’re having such a bad time yourself anymore,” Gippal playfully argues before chuckling when the Praetor deems his words with a humph.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Baralai feigns ignorance as he pointedly gazes out into the corn stock field.

“I’m sure you don’t, ‘Lai,” Gippal chortles even through the sudden fire licking his arm as the Praetor punches the poor appendage.

And, if Gippal takes the opportunity to link their hands together again, well, the Praetor doesn’t seem to mind. They were just holding hands, after all.

Even if it does make Gippal’s heart beat a little faster for some reason.

After an hour of driving the hover up and down the road, Gippal finally returns the machina to the grassy field before turning the shuddering engine off and jumping out with ease. He gracefully lands on his feet before stretching, a content sigh leaving his mouth and his eye closing in pleasure as his stiff body cracks and pops. However, when he doesn’t hear another pair of feet land on the ground, a blue eye re-enters the word as he glances over to his standing companion, who is still inside the hover.

“You have to jump out, ‘Lai,” The Al Behd lazily calls and chuckles softly when he is rewarded with an irritated glare.

“Really? I never knew,” The thick sarcasm dripping from Baralai’s words only widens the smile on Gippal’s face as the Al Behd approaches the Praetor.

A blue eye leisurely studies the silver-haired male as his gaze moves from the irate expression to the umber hands grasping the ledge of the hover to the trembling legs rooted to the spot before returning to Baralai’s face.

Pink lips part to offer the Praetor some, clearly, much needed help, but white teeth flash at Gippal in a warning that only amuses the Al Behd even more.

 _“Well, if he’s not going to do it willingly, I’ll guess I’ll just have to persuade him,”_ Although Gippal shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly at the thought, his wide smile and mirthful eye reveals his pleasure at the situation.

“Just jump out, ‘Lai,” Gippal calls as he holds out his arms. “Don’t worry. I’ll catch you.”

“I think I’m even more afraid now,” Baralai grumbles as brown eyes wearily watch the Al Behd, who squawks in indignation.

“I am very trustworthy, ‘Lai,” Pouting, Gippal dons his hurt puppy eyes, which – of course – does not phase his Praetor in the least. “If I say I’ll catch you, I promise I’ll catch you.”

“I was more worried about hurting you,” Baralai clarifies, but, before Gippal can enjoy the satisfaction of having his dependability affirmed, a sweet smile colors Baralai’s lips as the Praetor deals the finishing blow, “but, now that you’ve reminded me, your competence is also a problem.”

Grumbling about the cruelty of the Praetor, who only arches his eyebrow in response, Gippal huffs before trying to execute his plan again, “Don’t worry about hurting me, ‘Lai.”

The Praetor tilts his head to the side, silently prompting for an explanation, and, fortunately, one quickly comes.

With glee gleaming from his blue eye, Gippal adds, “After all, with your short stature, ‘Lai, I highly doubt you could possibly hurt m-”

Gippal quickly learns that Baralai may be just a _little_ testy about his height. He also immediately learns just how much Baralai can in fact hurt him when said Praetor jumps from the hover and lands right on top of the Al Behd, who not only fails to catch him but also ends up flat on the ground.

Perched on top of the groaning Al Behd with a less than amused expression, Baralai crosses his arms over his chest and snips, “Just because you are _slightly_ taller, Gippal, does not mean that we _slightly_ shorter people weigh less than you.”

Another pained groan leaves Gippal’s lips, and, instead of kindly offering to get off him or at the very least check his body for any injuries, the sadistic Praetor grins wolfishly, “Are you suffering, Gippal? Excellent. We’ll just stay like this for – how long was that wretched hover ride? Ah, I remember – _an hour_.”

 _“So sadistic,”_ The thought should be angry, but all Gippal can feel is pride as he gazes up at the pleased Praetor. _“You have to love it, though.”_

Still, Baralai can’t be the only one wielding verbal weapons in this relationship, and, with a toothy smile, Gippal attacks, “You know, ‘Lai, from this angle, it kind of looks like you’re riding me.”

The round is concluded when roses bloom along Baralai’s cheeks, but any satisfaction at his win quickly disappears when Baralai shuffles backwards on his stomach – trying to plant his feet firmly on the ground, Gippal absent-mindedly realizes - and brushes against his lap, making Gippal suddenly aware of a the party happening in that unusually sensitive area.

“Don’t move,” Gippal snarls as his tan hands grip Baralai’s hips and halt his progress.

The Praetor, thankfully, stops, but his eyes are narrowed in concern as he observes the Al Behd’s heated face, “What’s wrong, Gippal?”

The Al Behd clenches his jaw as he jerks his head, trying his best to answer Baralai’s question, before closing his eyes and inhaling a shaky breath.

 _“I guess my body had enjoyed his position a little more than I thought,”_ The attempt at humor falls short when confusion floods his head. _“I know that…that I’ve thought about ‘Lai and I in this kind of predicament before, but those are just fantasies – ones that I thought of when I was alone and when it wasn’t broad daylight –not **reality**. I didn’t actually **want** them to happen.”_

 _“Besides, everybody has fantasies. They’re nothing unusual,”_ Gippal assures himself as he sinks deeper in his thoughts while Baralai patiently waits for him to speak again. _“So, what does it matter if I think about Baralai when I’m doing certain nightly activities? He’s my best friend, the one I’m closest to, the one I can be myself with. Of course, I’d think of him.”_

 _“Although, I will admit I have been thinking about him a lot lately,”_ The memories surface temporarily as the Al Behd recalls his behavior that had led to the whole bargain, _“but it’s only natural. I missed ‘Lai, after all. I was only able to reunite with him for a short period after two years, and even then, I was more focused on saving him and the world from Shuyin that we weren’t able to interact much before parting again.”_

 _“So, of course I’ll think about him when I first wake up,”_ Not quite certain who he’s arguing against, Gippal remains steadfast in his reasoning, _“and of course I’ll think about when I’m eating and when I’m showering and when I’m preparing for bed.”_

 _“Even when I was working, I thought of ‘Lai,”_ Flames kiss Gippal’s cheeks as he remembers a particularly mortifying incident. _“I was reviewing a machina the Machina Faction had created and was trying to help determine a name for the device; and, what did I say? “Baralai.” It was horrifying, and it became even more so when one of the creators overheard me. She had looked around and asked, “Is the Yevon Praetor here?””_

 _“I mean, what am I supposed to say?”_ Gippal grumbles about the woman, still annoyed even now that she had caught him. _““No, I just think about him every second of every day.” Of course not! And it wasn’t every second, anyway. It was just every **other** second. Not the point, though. She wouldn’t believe me no matter how hard I insisted and just rolled her eyes before mumbling something about feeling sympathetic towards the Praetor “for choosing the most dense person in Spira”, whatever that meant.”_

“Gippal, are you okay?” The concerned voice guides Gippal back into the world as the Praetor leans forward and gently cradles the Al Behd’s cheek while studying him. “Did you get hurt when you fell?”

“You mean when you jumped on top of me?” Gippal corrects with a sly grin that only widens as Baralai smacks his chest before rising with a huff.

“Clearly there was no need for me to worry,” The Praetor grumbles, though his eyes still linger on Gippal’s body. “Let’s head to Rin’s agency and book ourselves a room. I’ve had enough adventure for one day.”

“You got it,” After giving Baralai a thumbs up, the Praetor rolls his eyes before making his way up the hill while Gippal remains on his back.

 _“After that… **incident** , I decided to see, ‘Lai,”_ The Al Behd returns to his thoughts as he lets the pulsing in his nether regions subside. _“I was getting tired of just thinking about him. Why think about someone when you could see them? As I traveled to Bevelle, I came up with an idea. Baralai’s constantly working – has that man even taken a break after the destruction of Vegnagun? – and I’ve been pretty busy, too, so why not take a vacation? However, I knew ‘Lai wouldn’t just take a vacation for no reason – even though self-care should very much be a valid reason for a break – so I decided to entice him: if you ride a hover, then I’ll ride a chocobo.”_

 _“It still took some convincing because ‘Lai’s stubborn,”_ Pink lips twitch as Gippal fondly reflects on Baralai’s personality, _“but eventually he agreed. A good thing, too. He had some serious bangs under his eyes. He needs to take better care of himself.”_

Before Gippal can delve deeper on exactly how Baralai should take care of himself – like, say, eating and sleeping, which are, you know, _basic needs_ , ‘Lai – Baralai’s voice breaks through his thoughts, “Are you coming, Gippal?”

A blue eye moves from the sky he had been gazing off into towards Baralai, who had paused halfway up the hill.

“Coming, honey,” Gippal coos with a smile, one that makes the Praetor roll his eyes again before he turns and continues walking up the hill.

Standing up and smoothing his garments, Gippal strolls after Baralai’s retreating figure as he considers the erection that had fortunately disappeared, _“Still, I didn’t think I’d actually have a physical reaction to ‘Lai even if I do think about him. We’re just friends, after all.”_

Although the words are firm, certainty is the last thing Gippal feels as he catches up with the Praetor, and no matter how much Gippal emphasizes it to himself, the uneasiness doesn’t disappear.

Baralai really is just his friend.

Isn’t he?


	2. Chocobos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, nor do I claim any ownership of the videogame Final Fantasy X-2. All rights belong to the producers and composers of the game, such as Square Enix and Noriko Matsueda.

_“Baralai’s just my friend, isn’t he?”_ The question floats around Gippal’s head as the uneasiness it had produced yesterday continues seeping under his skin like poison from a vespa. _“Baralai’s just my friend, isn’t he?"_

 _“So what if I’ve thought about him?”_ The Al Behd desperately tries to cure the doubt as he lies in the agency’s bed and stares at the popcorn ceiling. _“It’s only natural to think about your friends; and, so what if I’ve thought about him during the night? Baralai’s an attractive man, after all.”_

 _“Hold on,”_ Jolting up, Gippal’s mouth falls open as he considers his previous thought, _“did I just think Baralai is **attractive**? I mean, sure, I’ve **heard** people say that, but since when did **I** start agreeing with them? What’s even attractive about him?”_

Unbidden, an image of Baralai’s smile flashes before his eye and his heart begins rumbling like the Thunder Plains, _“Okay, sure, he’s got a nice smile – and why the heck is my heart beating so hard? – but it’s only natural to like a smile. They make everyone feel all warm and fuzzy, even the ones doing it! There’s nothing wrong, nothing **unusual** , with liking another person’s smile.”_

Another image, this one of Baralai’s eyes, flickers before his sight, and his breath grows into a labored pant, _“Fine, Baralai does have gorgeous eyes – why is my chest so tight right now? Why the heck am I panting? – all right? They’re expressive, too, like how they glitter when he’s playful, like how they become shuttered when he’s hurt or trying to distance himself from something (or someone), like how they focus so attentively on you even when you’re not saying anything – **doing** anything - important. His eyes are incredible because when he looks at you, it’s like he actually sees **you** \- the real you, the one that’s hidden under layers of socially imposed statuses, that’s hidden beneath your own skin.”_

Flames caress tan cheeks as Gippal runs his fingers through his blonde locks before scrubbing his face, _“What the heck? Did I seriously just go on a monologue over Baralai’s **eyes**? What the heck is wrong with me?”_

Plopping back onto his bed and burying his face into the lumpy pillow, Gippal huffs before stubbornly ignoring his incessant thoughts.

He isn’t getting anywhere, anyway.

Besides, he’s honestly concerned his heart, which is starting to thump painfully in his chest, isn’t going to be able to take anymore.

Fortunately, a distraction offers itself when a voice calls through the door, “Gippal? Are you awake?”

Nearly falling out of the bed in a rush, Gippal quickly straightens his clothes as he stumbles towards the door before yanking it open with a smile, “I-I’m here.”

Brown eyes widen as Baralai’s mouth falls open before he composes himself with a frown, “Did-Did you just… _stutter_ , Gippal?”

“H-Huh?” Grimacing at his apparent stutter, which rarely ever happens, Gippal coughs into his elbow and clears his throat. “’Course not, ‘Lai. When have you ever known me to stutter?”

“Anyway,” Gippal charges forward in the conversation when he notices Baralai opening his mouth to object, “what do you need?”

Baralai frowns softly for a moment, but, after studying Gippal, the Praetor sighs before answering, “I want to visit Mount Gagazet, if that’s okay with you. I haven’t seen it before, and I wanted to take the opportunity to do so while I can.”

“Sounds great with me,” Gippal chirps with a bright smile, one that only seems to make the concern in Baralai’s eyes grow. “When would you like to leave?”

“Preferably now, but,” Brown eyes dip towards Gippal’s disheveled clothes before rising to the Al Behd’s sheepish smile, “I can wait for you to get ready.”

“Give me a few minutes,” A blue eye flicks towards his room and grimaces at the clutter. “Actually, I’ll just meet you in the lobby when I’m done.”

The Praetor wearily surveys the Al Behd’s room, his nose wrinkling at the condition, before slowly nodding, “Take your time.”

Without wasting another moment, Baralai turns on his heels and walks towards the lobby, and Gippal watches the retreating figure until the Praetor disappears before the Al Behd frowns.

 _“What the heck did I watch him for?”_ Shaking his head at his peculiar behavior, Gippal enters his room and begins packing his items, but even the activity couldn’t remove the image of Baralai’s straight posture as he gracefully walked away. _“Seriously, what is going on with me? Why did I stutter? I only ever do that when I’m really flustered.”_

Another sigh leaves Gippal’s mouth as the frown stretches across his heated face, _“And why the heck am I blushing? Why is my heart beating so fast? Why am I acting this way?”_

 _“We’re just friends,”_ Harshly throwing his packed bag on the floor, Gippal stalks towards the unkempt bed and roughly straightens it. _“Baralai and I are just friends. So, why the heck am I acting like-like I have a crush on him?”_

The Al Behd freezes as if stone gaze had been cast on him, and his blue eye widens in shock when his heart stumbles at the thought before racing around in his chest, “ _Why do I feel this way? Why don’t I feel horrified? Why don’t I feel disgusted? Why…why do I feel so **excited**?”_

 _“Baralai’s just my friend,”_ Leaning against the half-made bed, Gippal gazes at the covers without seeing the pattern or color as his blood thrums below his skin. _“Baralai’s just my friend, isn’t he?”_

A blue eye disappears from the world as Gippal inhales a trembling breath before opening his eye and standing up, _“It’s no use thinking about this anymore. I’m not getting anywhere. Heck, all I’ve been doing is running around circles. We’re just friends, and that’s final. I don’t want Baralai as anything more. I do **not** want Baralai as anything more.”_

Straightening the bed, Gippal repeats the sentence as he grabs his bag and walks out of the room before entering the lobby.

“Do you have everything?” The Praetor inquires as he collects his own bag and stands up, his eyes focused on the Al Behd.

Forcing a smile that doesn’t feel right on his face, Gippal coos over Baralai’s concern, “Aw, were you worried about me, ‘Lai?”

“I just wanted to make sure you had everything because I won’t be sharing anything with you,” A sweet smile colors Baralai’s lips as he adds, “honey.”

Gaping at the smirk replacing the smile on Baralai’s face, all the Al Behd can do is stare at the Praetor before being coherent enough to grumble, “Why are you so cruel to me, ‘Lai? I thought you loved me!”

“Did I?” Tilting his head, Baralai gazes at the ceiling as he hums before shrugging and turning on his heels. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”

“Hey!” Gippal pouts as he strolls after the Praetor. “‘Lai, you’re so mean to me.”

“My sincerest apologies, Gippal,” There’s absolutely no sincerity in Baralai’s voice as the Al Behd falls in step with the Praetor, whose lips are twitching.

“You’re not sorry one bit,” Whining, Gippal crosses his arms over his chest, which only breaks the Praetor’s attempt to repress his smile. “See? You’re even smiling!”

“I was not aware that was a crime, Gippal,” This time, Baralai doesn’t hide his amusement as they begin walking down the Mi’ihen Highroad and towards Mushroom Rock Road.

“Well, no,” Huffing, Gippal’s pout grows as he struggles to justify himself, “but it’s still the point.”

Glittering brown eyes flick towards him as a chuckle escapes the Praetor’s mouth before Baralai shakes his head and concedes defeat, “You’re absolutely right, Gippal. I am truly sorry.”

 _“He isn’t sorry one bit,”_ Gippal complains internally as he pointedly ignores the warmth spreading across his chest and pointedly ignores his heart skipping around his body. _“And why did my heart skip a beat when he smiled? I mean, sure, it was a gorgeous smile, but…”_

 _“And why did I think that his smile was gorgeous?”_ Groaning out loud, Gippal fiercely rubs his hair before his attention flicks towards Baralai.

“Are you okay?” The Praetor pauses as he gives his full attention to the Al Behd, whose face heats as he averts his eye.

“‘Course I am,” Gippal dismisses Baralai’s worry with a shrug before the Al Behd continues walking down the dusty road. “I’m just thinking, that’s all.”

Silence is the first response Gippal’s back receives before he hears Baralai sigh and resume his pace, playfully teasing the blonde-haired male, “Don’t think too much.”

A genuine smile covers Gippal’s lips as the Al Behd chuckles, the warmth in his chest tingling as it rushes to his head and fills it with cotton, before responding, “No promises.”

His companion softly laughs before a comfortable silence fills the space between them as they exit the Mi’ihen Highroad; but, as they continue their trek towards Mount Gagazet, Gippal is enveloped by his thoughts again.

 _“Why does my head feel so fuzzy like I’ve had too much to drink?”_ Surveying their surroundings absent-mindedly, Gippal considers his physical condition as a frown crawls over his face. _“Why is my heart still beating so hard?”_

 _“Why,”_ The Al Behd notes his quickened breath and the smile that still hasn’t left his lips even though his cheeks are crying for a reprieve, _“why do I feel so ridiculously happy?”_

 _“Why is being with him affecting me so much?”_ A blue eye flicks towards his companion and lingers on his serene expression. _“Why is being with him affecting me when it’s never affected me before?”_

Scrutinizing the Praetor, who fortunately still hasn’t noticed his intense gaze, Gippal’s attention roves around the umber face, taking in the relaxed forehead, the contentment shining in the brown depths, the smile playing around the corners of his pink kissable lips…

 _“What!”_ Tearing his eye away from Baralai’s lips as a blush spreads across Gippal’s cheeks, the Al Behd quickly dissects his thoughts. _“What did I just think? Kissable? **Kissable**? Did I seriously think Baralai’s lips were **kissable**?”_

Panic tears through Gippal’s limbs like a behemoth upper cutting him as his gaze unwittingly flicks back to Baralai’s profile, his eye once again falling on those soft lips.

 _“What is going on with me?”_ The question isn’t as hysterical as its ancestors, but, then again, his attention is mostly concentrated on repressing the urge to slide his fingers through the - fluffy? It looked fluffy to Gippal - silver hair and bring their lips together. _“Why do I want to kiss him so badly? We’re just supposed to be friends. Why do I want to do more, then? Why do I want **more** , then?”_

“Is there something wrong, Gippal?” Gippal’s eye jerks up to brown eyes as the Praetor pauses again and looks towards the Al Behd with crimson cheeks. “You’re staring at me, and quite intensely, I might add.”

“You’re gorgeous,” Gippal blurts out the words before he can stop them, and blood fills his own cheeks as the Al Behd struggles to cover his mistake. “I-I mean your-your-your hair! That’s right, your hair! It’s all comely, and there’s not a-a strand out of place. You…You could definitely give me some tips.”

Hysterical laughter bubbles out of Gippal’s mouth as the Al Behd averts his eye before scurrying ahead – and away from the bewildered Praetor.

 _“Idiot. Idiot,”_ Gippal berates himself as his cheeks continue filling with blood. _“Who says things like that? Who? An idiot does. I’m such an idiot. A big idiot.”_

 _“Let’s just not say anything,”_ The Al Behd decides as he keeps his eye on the road ahead instead of on the Praetor, whose gaze is burning holes in the side of Gippal’s flushed face. _“Don’t say a word. Who knows what’ll come out next? “Hey, ‘Lai, I think I like you as more than a friend.””_

His feet abruptly halting - and nearly tripping Gippal in the process before the Al Behd rights himself – a wide blue eye gazes into the distance, _“What? What? **What?** I…I did not think that. **I did not think that**. We’re just friends. We’re just friends. I like Baralai as **a friend**. I **only** like Baralai as a friend.”_

Yet, no matter how hard Gippal scrubs his hair, no matter how fiercely he insists his feelings are purely platonic, the doubt does not disappear.

“Gippal, you’ve been acting strange all day,” Baralai snaps as he crosses his arms over his chest and clenches his jaw, the concern radiating from his eyes. “What is going on?”

“Nothing,” Inhaling deeply, Gippal gives his companion a forced smile before continuing to reassure him. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s all good, ‘Lai. Don’t…Don’t worry.”

Pinning the Al Behd with a stern glare, the Praetor frowns before sighing, “When you’re ready to talk, I’ll listen.”

“Okay,” The forced smile becomes a little more genuine as Gippal agrees with Baralai’s unspoken request. “I’ll talk when I’m ready.”

Baralai observes the Al Behd for a moment before the silver-haired male shakes his head and resumes walking, giving the Al Behd a few minutes to collect himself before catching up with the Praetor.

Wisely ignoring his thoughts, which were buzzing around like a group of wasps, Gippal studies their surroundings and walks in companionable silence with the Praetor until they arrive in the Calm Lands.

“I’ll go stock up on a few things,” Baralai points to the small agency as they pause near the western cliff. “I shouldn’t be long, so wait for me here.”

“You act like I’m a child, ‘Lai,” Gippal pouts naturally, although the playful feeling isn’t completely present in the act.

“Act like an adult, then, you overgrown baby,” The Praetor laughs at the Al Behd’s sulking expression before heading towards the agency.

“Whose an overgrown baby?” The blonde-haired male grumbles to no one as his eye turns toward the barren landscape stretching below the Calm Lands, though his attention is focused on his earlier thoughts.

 _“I need to get myself together,”_ The Al Behd firmly decides. _“Baralai is just my friend. Nothing more. Am I attracted to him?”_

A grimace slithers across his face as he recalls his physical reaction to Baralai before stuffing the memory back into its box, _“I guess I am. I am physically attracted to Baralai. Nothing wrong with that. Baralai is objectively attractive; and, there’s nothing wrong with admitting that. I’m just making a big deal over nothing.”_

 _“Do I…Do I like Baralai?”_ Another blush coats Gippal’s cheeks as the Al Behd begins running his fingers through his hair, tugging at the golden locks before soothing the slight pain radiating from his scalp. _“Of course I like Baralai. How could I be friends with someone I didn’t like?”_

Instead of satisfying him, instead of finally curing the acidic doubt spreading throughout his body, the answer only knotted the Al Behd’s stomach as bile rose to his mouth.

 _“Why isn’t it enough?”_ Even though he isn’t certain what he’s referring to, the desperation still pierces Gippal’s skin like a lupine’s fangs. _“Why isn’t it enough?”_

Before Gippal can drown in his thoughts, a voice reaches down and hauls him out of its suffocating depths, “Gippal.”

When Gippal turns around, all thoughts abruptly drain from his mind as he confronts the sight before him.

 _“A deal is a deal,”_ Although Gippal acknowledges the sight, it still doesn’t change the fact that the Al Behd is beginning to regret their bargain as he gazes into wide black eyes that seem to maliciously glitter with amusement.

“Gippal,” A blue eye moves towards the figure elegantly perched on top of the hellish creature, “it’s just a Chocobo.”

“That is not _just_ a Chocobo,” Gippal vehemently protests as horror enters his veins. “That thing is a _death trap_! A big, yellow, feathery deathtrap!”

And not for the first time today – and probably not for the last time – Baralai sighs.

“Gippal, it’s not a deathtrap,” Baralai calmly explains as he runs his fingers through the bird’s golden feathers. “No more than a hover is, anyway.”

“I never knew you were petty, ‘Lai,” Gippal exaggerates his gasp and takes a step away from the bird, mindful of the cliff behind him. “This is about revenge, isn’t it?”

White teeth flash in the sunlight as Baralai grins wolfishly, and, before Gippal can scream, the large golden beast stalks towards him as umber hands haul him behind the Praetor – and on top of the creature, who releases a reverberating roar before hopping up and down.

“Save me!” Sobs fly out of Gippal’s mouth as the Al Behd wraps his arms around Baralai’s waist and stuffs his face into the other man’s garments. “I’m really, really sorry, ‘Lai, so please spare me!”

Laughter racks the Praetor’s form, and when Gippal lifts his face to send the other a blue glare, Baralai merely smirks and leans in before whispering one word, “No.”

Terror covers Gippal like a cloud covering the sun, but before he can beg – he is not above begging, especially when Baralai’s feeling particularly sadistic like he is now – the Praetor turns his head and gently kicks the beast into action; and, with a mighty caw that is joined by a human cry, the Chocobo races across the grassy plain as Gippal screams his head off.

“Mercy, please!” The Al Behd screeches as his arms turn into vines around Baralai’s middle, but the only thing he receives is laughter from the Praetor, who proceeds to encourage the blasted bird to run faster.

“Please, ‘Lai, I am begging you, show me some mercy!” Burying his terrified face into Baralai’s shaking shoulder, Gippal continues to plead for some compassion. “Mercy, please!”

“Revenge is so sweet,” The satisfaction in Baralai’s voice sends a shiver down Gippal’s spine as he grieves his past behavior before lifting his head, keeping his eye closed so he doesn’t lose his stomach.

“I shouldn’t have thrown you into the hover!” Gippal calls over the roaring wind. “And I shouldn’t have suddenly done those circles! I’m sorry, ‘Lai, so please - _pleas_ e - show me some mercy!”

Mercy is finally given, but when Baralai suddenly halts the Chocobo and sends Gippal straight into his back, his blue eye snapping open at the collision, the Al Behd can’t help but wonder if the Praetor’s actions can really be considered mercy.

“Thank…you,” Gippal wisely remembers to say as he refills his lungs with precious air (which he would never ever take for granted again). “Thank…you…so…much.”

“I just wanted you to have fun,” A blue eye flicks towards Baralai’s flushed face that is adorned with a smirk. “It was fun, wasn’t it, Gippal?”

“You’re…so…damn…petty,” The Al Behd would like to argue that he is wise, but he sometimes forgets just how sadistic his Praetor can be.

“What did you say?” Mischievousness gleams from brown eyes as Baralai leans back into Gippal’s chest. “You want to go again? _With pleasure_.”

Before Gippal can take back his words or offer an apology or even scream, Baralai gently taps the Chocobos side and sends the beast into another sprint, one that Gippal swears drags on forever.

“‘Lai, please,” The Al Behd sobs as his eye clenches shut at the burst of wind rushing into his face, “I really am sorry, so please forgive me all ready!”

“Are you really sorry?” The amusement is thick in the Praetor’s voice as he continues pushing the Chocobo faster. “You won’t ever do it again?”

“I’ll swear it to your damn Yevon that I’ll never do it again!” A shriek follows Gippal’s words as he feels the beast’s scrawny legs leave solid – safe, safe, safe – ground and jump into the sky. “I’m sorry! I’m really, really sorry! So, please forgive me, ‘Lai!”

Gippal’s hell finally ends when the bird returns to the grassy ground and ceases its mad pursuit.

With a sob and shudders racking his form, Gippal collapses against Baralai’s back, not even having the breath to thank the sadistic Praetor.

“You know, Gippal, I think this whole bargain wasn’t such a bad idea,” A wicked smile graces Baralai’s lips as Gippal sends the Praetor a half-hearted glare. “I do believe I’m having a good time now.”

“So…sadistic,” The Al Behd pants before closing his eye and inhaling deeply. “So…damn…sadistic.”

“Quite proud of it, too,” Baralai hums as he inspects his hands before patting the Chocobo. “Hope you’re not too worn out, boy.”

“What about me?” Gippal whines after steadying his breath. “I think I deserve some praise after what I’ve been through.”

“Good job for not falling off and getting stomped to death,” The Praetor congratulates the blonde-haired man with a toothy grin.

“S…Stomped to death?” The words are choked as Gippal jerks from Baralai’s back and gazes down at the bird’s dangerous body. “You’re…You’re kidding, right, ‘Lai?”

“Am I?” Baralai tilts his head, the breeze ruffling his silver hair, as he hums in thought. “I wonder.”

“‘Lai, please, ‘Lai, don’t joke about this,” Gippal beseeches as his arms tighten on Baralai’s middle. “It won’t actually stomp you to death, right?”

“Of course not, Gippal,” The Praetor rolls his eyes as he continues petting the bird’s head. “If a chocobo sees something in its path, it just flies over it or runs around it. It will not stomp you to death.”

Exhaling a relieved breath, Gippal rests his forehead against Baralai’s shoulder, “You’re so cruel, ‘Lai. Show me some compassion here. I’ve suffered enough.”

“Well, I suppose that is true,” Baralai stops petting the Chocobo and moves his fingers to caress Gippal’s head. “You did very good, and I’m sorry for scaring you so.”

Responding with a noncommittal noise, Gippal leans into the caresses as his eye closes in pleasure, and a hum reverberates through his chest as his scalp tingles with each touch.

“Now,” A pout forms on Gippal’s face as the umber hands retracts from his hair and returns to the reigns, “are you ready to continue?”

“Slower this time, ‘Lai,” The Al Behd straightens as he resigns himself to upholding his end of the bargain. “I honestly think I lost every part of me back there.”

A chuckle escapes Baralai’s lips before the Praetor silences himself and drily comments, “I don’t think that’s physically possible, Gippal.”

“It’s figurative!” The Al Behd huffs before tightening his arms around Baralai’s waist as he gently kicks the Chocobo into a trot.

“Good so far?” Brown eyes move from the green land ahead of them to Gippal, softening when they see the tension lining the pale face. “Do you want me to go slower?”

Swallowing his screams, Gippal gruffly answers, “No. This…This is fine.”

“Are you sure?” Baralai checks again, and, when Gippal only jerks his head in affirmation, the Praetor nods his head sympathetically before returning his attention to the land.

However, when an umber hand covers Gippal’s clenched fist buried in Baralai’s stomach, some of the Al Behd’s tension disappears, even if his does heart skip a beat at the contact.

Although the ride lasts a while – much longer than the hover ride, Gippal would like to argue even if Baralai insists it lasted the same amount of time – the Al Behd is far less tense when they finally stop.

Throwing his leg over the bird, Baralai gracefully jumps down, but, just as the Praetor turns to offer the Al Behd help, a thump resonates through the air before being followed by a groan.

“Gippal, why didn’t you just wait?” Baralai huffs as he gazes down at the Al Behd sprawled over the grass. “I was going to help you down.”

All Gippal can do is moan in agony as he rubs his beaten body, which only makes the Praetor roll his eyes.

“This could be a good lesson about impatience, Gippal,” Baralai adds as he strolls over to the fallen Al Behd before offering the blonde male a hand.

“The only lesson I learned today is that I will always dislike Chocobos,” Gippal grumbles as he takes the offered hand and stands up, rubbing his aching back. “I don’t think we can visit Mount Gagazet today. I’m in no state to be walking anymore.”

“That’s fine. I didn’t actually want to visit the mountain anyway,” Baralai assures as he collects the chocobo’s reigns and gently leads the golden bird back to wherever he got it from.

“What?” Gippal straightens in surprise before he doubles over and groans, his aching back protesting against the movement. “I thought you wanted to do that, though.”

“No, that was just a lie to keep you from escaping,” The Praetor sends the gaping Al Behd a chesire grin. “I knew you’d run if you remembered your part of the bargain, so I made certain to eliminate that possibility.”

“Sadistic man,” Gippal mumbles to himself as he watches Baralai disappear around the corner with the creature. “So damn sadistic.”

Rubbing his back one more time, Gippal tries to straighten only to hunch over as pain blossoms across his backside, “Yeah, you know what? I think I’m just going to stay right here.”

Nodding his head, Gippal gingerly lowers himself to the ground before lying down with a pained groan.

 _“I am never riding a chocobo again,”_ The Al Behd remains steadfast in his declaration as his blue eye closes while he basks in the warm dusk light. “ _Never again.”_

The thoughts sink back into the recess of Gippal’s mind as the Al Behd enjoys the moment, the pain in his back easing and his thumping heart slowing, before slipping off into a light doze.

“…sleeping all ready, Gippal?” Fragments of a sentence awaken the Al Behd, his blue eye lazily opening as he languidly stretches his limbs before focusing on Baralai.

“Yeah,” A yawn accompanies Gippal’s words as the Al Behd sinks into the soft grass. “Let’s just stay here for the night.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” The Praetor hums in agreement before grabbing their bags from the wall he had stashed them against. “We’ll head for Bevelle tomorrow.”

“Leaving me all ready?” Gippal teases, though he is anything but playful as his heart contracts at the reminder of their limited time together.

“It has been two days, Gippal,” Baralai explains as he unzips their bags and gathers out their sleeping bags and some firewood. “You said we would only be gone for three.”

“We could extend it,” The Al Behd suggests hopefully, but Baralai shakes his head with a small smile tugging at his lips.

“I’m the Praetor, Gippal, and people depend on me,” Using firaga to light the fire, Baralai leans back and observes his work. “Bevellians are not like the Al Behd. They won’t be fine if I leave for long periods of time. They need me to be there with them.”

“I know,” A resigned sigh escapes Gippal’s lips as he turns on his side and faces the fire, his eye watching the reddish flames before following the grey wasps of smoke flying into the darkening sky.

What he doesn’t say, though, is how much he wishes they could have more time.

What he doesn’t say is how, sometimes, he wishes Baralai isn’t the Praetor and he isn’t the leader of the Machina Faction.

 _“But that is the way things are,”_ The reminder pokes at the sore wound before wrapping it up in a cloth, _“and there’s no use wishing for something that isn’t a reality and will never be.”_

“I had fun, though,” Baralai murmurs as he sets the sleeping bags beside each other before meeting Gippal’s eyes. “I really enjoyed doing this with you.”

“Me too,” The smile on Baralai’s face widens at Gippal’s words, and the Al Behd happily returns the pleased smile. “Me too, ‘Lai.”

A single blue eye moves back towards the night sky, studying the black depths speckled with shimmering stars, before returning towards the Praetor, now seated upon his sleeping bag.

Studying the content expression - the soft brown eyes, the upturned pink lips – the smile on Gippal’s lips softens into a fond smile at the rare profile.

 _“He’s beautiful,”_ The compliment suddenly appears, and Gippal’s cheeks heat as he averts his gaze only for it to unwillingly return to Baralai. _“Beautiful, huh? I usually give that compliment to girls. Why did I think that?”_

Scrutinizing the oblivious Praetor, Gippal rests his cheek against his palm as he calmly considers the term, _“He is handsome, so was I referring to his physical attractiveness, or was I referring to something else? What makes someone beautiful? What makes **him** beautiful to **me**?”_

 _“Is it his smile? His eyes? His face?”_ Gippal reflects on their day as he continues gazing at his companion. _“Is it his personality? Is it the way he makes me feel? Is it the way he makes even a tough situation worth it, makes every day worth it?”_

 _“Why am I so okay with calling him beautiful, anyway?”_ Chuckling at his bewildered thoughts, Gippal quickly looks to the sky when Baralai turns toward him with an arched eyebrow.

“What are you laughing about?” Brown eyes sparkle with curiosity as the Praetor observes him.

Shaking his head as his smile grows, Gippal murmurs, “Nothing. I’m just enjoying myself.”

The smile on his umber face widens as Baralai turns his attention to the fire, but Gippal still hears his soft words, “Me too.”

 _“Does it really matter what exactly I find beautiful?”_ Gippal surveys Baralai’s profile as he returns to his thoughts. _“We’re not going to see each other for a while after tomorrow, if we ever see each other again.”_

 _“Maybe the reason I’m so okay with thinking these things now,”_ Ignoring the sorrow gnawing at his heart, Gippal continues considering his emotions, _“is because I don’t want to spend our last moments wondering about how I feel. I want to enjoy every second of our time together; or, maybe it’s because it’ll probably be the last time I see him, so there’s no harm in thinking these things. They won’t change anything. They won’t change **us**. Even if…”_

Gippal stops himself, not certain he wants to know the rest of that sentence, and shakes his head before slowly standing up and joining Baralai on the other sleeping bag.

“Ready for bed?” Baralai turns to the Al Behd as he settles into his bag. “If you’re still sore tomorrow, we’ll get you some potions.”

“How about some cuddles instead?” The Al Behd holds out his arm with a beseeching puppy look, one that garners an exasperated sigh. “Please, ‘Lai?”

“Big overgrown baby,” The Praetor fondly murmurs as he gives in to the request and scoots his bag close to Gippal’s before climbing into bed and tilting his head to lay on Gippal’s shoulder.

Lowering his arms and laying his blonde head against the soft - he knew it’d be fluffy - bed of silver hair, Gippal can’t help but wonder fleetingly if it would really be so bad to like Baralai romantically, if it would be so bad to _love_ him; and, as the Al Behd drifts off to sleep under the starry night sky, he discovers he can’t come up with a single reason to say yes.

But he can come up with a thousand of reasons to say no.


	3. Love Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, nor do I claim any ownership of the videogame Final Fantasy X-2. All rights belong to the producers and composers of the game, such as Square Enix and Noriko Matsueda.

“I love you.”

The words hang in the silent air of Macalania Woods as Baralai freezes at Gippal’s sudden confession.

 _“What…What did I just say?”_ Shock wraps around the Al Behd like the melody of the woods while the Al Behd gazes wide eyed at the Praetor, _“Why did I say that? No. No, that’s not the question I need to ask. I’ve said this a thousand times to ‘Lai – “Love you, too” or “you know you love me” – before, but I’ve never **meant** the words. So…So why does it sound different this time? Why…why does it sound like I mean it?”_

A blue eye stares into a pair of brown eyes that seem to gleam with a bright emotion, but before Gippal can determine light in the Praetor’s eyes, they become shuttered as a veil conceals the emotions on Baralai’s face.

 _“He looks so serious,”_ Dread curls in the Al Behd’s stomach as he studies the stoic expression, _“like…like he’s about to tell me something I’m not going to like – like he’s about to **do** something I’m not going to like.”_

Swallowing the thick lump forming in his throat, Gippal shudders as his mind suggests the worst case scenario, _“I…I don’t want to lose him. I **can’t** lose him. Not when I just got him back.”_

Shaking his head and sharply inhaling a deep breath, the gears in the Al Behd’s head begin whirling as he considers an escape to delay the consequences of his words, _“You can’t end something if the other person’s not there.”_

“I…I have to-to go,” The words are choppy as Gippal turns on his heels and begins walking away from the silent Praetor. “I-I have to check in on the Machina Faction and make certain everything’s okay. I’ll…I’ll see you around.”

With a backwards wave, Gippal flees, and he doesn’t stop even when Baralai calls him back.

Because going back would mean accepting the end, and Gippal can’t accept it – _won’t_ accept it.

The Al Behd races all the way back to Djose Temple, never stopping to rest or to fight the fiends that tried to approach him only to be startled back by his speed, and when he finally does return home – the word brings a sour taste to his mouth as his stomach rejects the notion – he barely greets the others before locking himself in his room.

 _“What did I do?”_ Sliding down the wooden surface, a blue eye gazes into the shadow room as Gippal rests his head against the door. _“What did I do? Why did I do it? Why…Why did I say that? Why did…Why did I mean it? Why? **Why**?”_

The Al Behd scrubs his face as if that would wipe away all his problems before sighing, his hands dropping to his lap, as he closes his eye, _“Why did I say that? Why did I say those words? No, why did I say them **that way**? Why did I say them so **sincerely**?”_

Another sigh greets the dark room as Gippal sags against the door, and his mind (cruelly, he might like to add) presents the scene in Macalania Woods when the Al Behd had fled from the Praetor, _“It was probably best I ran. I’m not a coward, and I’ve never liked running away from problems. I prefer to face them than run away from them. You can only run for so long, after all; but, with something like this, I mean, what the heck am I even supposed to **do**? Apologize? Sure, Baralai certainly didn’t look happy, but I think my apology would only make it **worse**. He’s the type, when forced to confront a problem instead of having the option to run from it, that likes to **talk** about the issue and make every party involved understand the conflict.”_

 _“Something like that,”_ A harsh bitter laugh falls from the blonde man’s lips as he succumbs to his thoughts, _“just won’t work here.”_

Because how can he possibly explain himself when he doesn’t even understand his own feelings?

* * *

It takes Gippal a week before he snaps.

 _“Every day,”_ The Al Behd seethes as he roughly – something he would never do - throws his tools into his toolbox, _“every day it has been the same thing. Why did I mean those words? Why have I been feeling different? Why do I constantly think about Baralai? **Why** …Why am I so unsatisfied with our relationship?”_

 _“I’m tired of guessing,”_ Slamming the box close, the Al Behd straightens and marches out of his room, and the other Al Behds briefly look at him before averting their gazes (they know that their leader has been in a bad mood lately, and after several incidents, they have all wisely learned to avoid Gippal when he’s irritated). _“I’m tired of not knowing. I don’t need space. I don’t need to think. I need **answers** , and there’s only one way to get them.”_

However, before the Al Behd can exit Djose Temple, a hesitant voice halts him, “Gippal.”

A narrowed blue eye turns towards an Al Behd woman, briefly glaring at the others who are giving her a sympathetic stare, before re-focusing on the figure approaching him, “Fryd?” (What?)

After a week of dealing with terse responses (and sometimes out right hostility), the woman is fortunately not cawed by his irate question, “E fyhdat du lralg fedr oui ypuid dra tamejano. Luimt oui bmayca muug yt drec?” (I wanted to check with you about the delivery. Could you please look at this?)

Handing him a sheet, the woman patiently waits as he quickly scans the document, and, for the first time in a week, a smile graces his lips.

“E femm tamejan dra byndc du Bevelle ehcdayt uv Kaku. Dra nacd muugc kuut.” (I will deliver the parts to Bevelle instead of Kaku. The rest looks good.) Gippal announces as he returns the page to the startled Al Behd before turning on his heels and exiting the Temple, ignoring the calls for an explanation.

 _“At least I have an excuse now,”_ Humming in satisfaction, the leader of the Machina Faction strolls toward the pile of machinas, to be delivered to Bevelle, and gathers the products before heading down the road.

Although it takes Gippal only a day to reach the city – he would like to insist that he did not _sprint_ to get here – the Al Behd still feels affected by the journey.

 _“When I see Baralai,”_ Wetting his dry lips, the Al Behd adjusts the products in his sweaty hands before inhaling deeply to calm his thumping heart, _“I’ll tell him that I want to talk to him. I’ll tell him…I’ll tell him everything. Maybe then I can finally get some answers.”_

Nodding, Gippal rushes up the carpeted bridge before abruptly halting when his eye falls upon the Praetor, his umber face turned upwards towards the sky as he waits outside the doors.

His heart skips a beat at Baralai’s profile, and, just for a moment, Gippal forgets how to breathe as joy fills his chest, _“So beautiful. I missed him. I missed him so damn much.”_

A blue eye soaks in every detail of Baralai’s face – from the faraway gaze and the slightly lined forehead to the furrowed eyebrows - and he probably would have continued studying the Praetor if he didn’t suddenly turn and meet Gippal’s gaze.

“Gippal?” Brown eyes widen in surprise as the Praetor walks toward him. “What are you doing here?”

“Delivering these,” Holding the products in his arms to emphasize his statement, the Al Behd takes the opportunity to study the bangs under Baralai’s eyes, which had dropped to Gippal’s arms, and the Al Behd frowns in displeasure at their darkened condition.

 _“I see he hasn’t been sleeping much,”_ Huffing, Gippal shakes his head and mentally prepares himself for the argument they were bound to have, one that he has every intention of winning. _“We’ll fix that right away.”_

“I was surprised to see you,” The Praetor confesses as he takes the products from the Al Behd and sets them on the ground, “as Kaku is usually the one who delivers these.”

A fire abruptly ignites in the Al Behd’s stomach at the words as Gippal clenches his jaw and hisses, “So what? Why does it matter if I’m delivering the parts?”

 _“And why the heck do you care so much if you see him?”_ The fury claws through Gippal’s thrumming blood before attacking his thundering heart as his hands ball into fists. _“Aren’t you happy to see **me**? Aren’t you happy to see me instead of **him**?”_

Baralai’s guarded voice yanks Gippal out of his thoughts as the Praetor eyes the Al Behd with a frown before slowly answering, “It doesn’t matter. It’s just surprising, that’s all.”

“What? Did you _want_ to see _him_?” White teeth flash at Baralai as Gippal snarls the question, and the Praetor jerks back in surprise at the hostility.

Brown eyes study the tense expression, ignoring the blue flame piercing his umber skin as Gippal glares at the Praetor, before Baralai steps forward and gently inquires, “Gippal, is everything okay with the Machina Faction?”

 _“You have me right in front of you,”_ Grinding his teeth together, the Al Behd growls in frustration, _“and yet you ask about the Machina Faction? I’m right **here** , Baralai. Focus on **me**.”_

Shaking his head, the Al Behd grabs Baralai’s garments and yanks the baffled Praetor forward before snapping, “Screw the Machina Faction.”

Brown eyes pop of their sockets at the words, but Gippal doesn’t notice as he finally gives into the desire that had plagued him for months and slams his lips against Baralai’s parted ones.

Like lighting a fire with firaga, sparks shoot throughout the Al Behd’s body as their lips connect, and even though Baralai’s are frozen against his, Gippal doesn’t let that distract him from his revelation.

 _“So this is why I’ve been so doubtful of my relationship to him,”_ His heart in his throat, a blue eye closes before opening and meeting wide brown eyes as Gippal finally stumbles upon the answer he had been seeking. _“It’s because-”_

“I love you,” The realization once again escapes Gippal’s lips when he disconnects from Baralai, and his hand falls from the Praetor’s garments.

“I love you,” His tongue tasting and savoring the sweet holy words, Gippal repeats his revelation, this time more for himself than for his companion, as he gazes into Baralai’s eyes.

The blinds of Baralai’s face abruptly shut as the Praetor averts his gaze, a muscle in his cheek ticking as he murmurs, “I know you have good intentions when you say that, Gippal, but I really hate how you speak those words so nonchalantly.”

Although the Al Behd wants to protest, all Gippal can manage to do is shake his head as he repeats his words, still dazed at the revelation, “I love you.”

Brown flames lick Gippal’s face as Baralai turns his face to glare at him, but just as quickly as they appear, the flames disappear when Baralai takes a step back, his voice trembling as he stares at the Al Behd’s face, “Why…Why do you look so…so _earnest_?”

“Because,” Gippal inhales as the shock finally wears off, “I love you. I really love you, ‘Lai.”

The Praetor’s lips thin into a line as he gazes at the Al Behd before he huffs and grumbles fondly, “I should have ridden a hover a long time ago.”

A frown mars Gippal’s face, but before he can voice his confusion, umber hands grip the Al Behd’s neck before gently tugging him down and connecting their lips again. Soft lips move against Gippal’s mouth, and his blue eye flutters close as he returns the affection, his own lips moving along with Baralai’s in an ancient lover’s dance.

When they pull away – no tongue, though if Baralai is willing, Gippal is more than happy to correct that grave mistake – from the chaste kiss, the Al Behd breathlessly voices the question plaguing his mind, “So…So does that mean you love me, too?”

“I…I do,” Baralai confesses as his cheeks redden into the same rosy color as his lips, “I’ve loved you for two years, actually, and…and I think I probably would’ve continued loving you for the rest of my life.”

Awe colors Gippal’s face as the Al Behd lifts a hand from Baralai’s waist and gently cradles a warm umber cheek, “For that long? You’ve loved me for that long, ‘Lai?”

A smile pushes the Praetor’s cheeks up as Baralai chuckles, “Is it truly that surprising, Gippal? Aren’t you always talking about how lovable you are?”

“Well, yeah, but,” Gippal’s own red lips curl into a smile as the Al Behd tries to argue, “I didn’t actually think you’d fall for me.”

“I assure you I didn’t either,” Laughter gleams from brown eyes as Baralai shrugs nonchalantly, “but, here I am: in love with an idiot who made me think my feelings were unreciprocated.”

“Hey!” A pout adorns Gippal’s mouth as the Al Behd tugs the Praetor closer. “You’re the one who fell in love with this idiot.”

Humming, Baralai wraps his arms around Gippal’s neck before murmuring with a soft smile, “I did, and I don’t regret it for a second.”

“I’ll promise I’ll keep making it worthwhile,” The Al Behd whispers before dipping his head and connecting their lips, intent on prolonging this kiss.

However, Gippal’s aspirations are quickly annihilated when a young voice breaks through his consciousness, “Mommy, why are those two boys kissing?”

Like having a bomb cast fire on him, flames caress Gippal’s cheeks as he and Baralai stumble away from each other, avoiding each other’s faces as they look towards the young girl openly staring at them.

Hiding a – very evident, Gippal notices as his blush darkens – smile behind her mouth, the mother answers her daughter’s question with twinkling eyes, “Because they love each other, honey.”

Coughing ostentatiously, brown eyes flick towards Gippal as Baralai gathers half the machina products before straightening and gesturing to the door with his free hand, “D-Do you want to go inside?”

“Definitely,” Gippal immediately agrees as he quickly collects the other half of the products before heading into Bevelle’s headquarters.

And, if Baralai takes Gippal’s hand in his own, well, there's nothing unusual about it.

They were just boyfriends, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts. Constructive criticism, feedback, votes, and bookmarks are much appreciated! Look forward to the next installment in the Gippalaipalooza Series, "Al Behds Do It Better."


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